Christmas 2009

Did you ever see that episode of “Family Ties” where Uncle Ned (played by a young Tom Hanks) finally admits that he has a drinking problem? With each painful scene, you know that the eventual train wreck will be catastrophic. Ned starts drinking beer as soon as he arrives at the Keaton’s house. He then drinks a six-pack during an innocent game of Trivial Pursuit. In the middle of the night, Ned downs a bottle of whiskey, some vanilla extract, and a jar of maraschino cherries. He turns up drunk playing Tina Yother’s clarinet at a job interview. When the Mr. and Mrs. Keaton finally confront Ned about his problem, Ned bitch slaps Alex in retaliation. After this last humiliation, Ned admits his problem and calls AA.

Wouldn’t it be great if all our problems could be solved in 22 minutes?

For the past 2 months, I’ve been on this Uncle Ned trajectory. In my case, my addiction is not to booze, but in feeling sorry for myself. Obama said “Hope is on the way,” but on the way I lost all of mine. There are times when it feels like I am watching myself on TV and I want to scream at the main character.

Did you know that I came this close to committing petty larceny? Before you call me Winona Ryder, let me explain.

Next to the mailroom at my building, there is an apartment occupied by two very festive men. On December 1, to set the season off on a good note, they placed a musical wreath on their door. Anytime a person walked by the wreath, the song “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” played in its entirety (only imagine a high-pitched muzak version played through your old Radio Shack computer). There is no way to enter the mailroom without passing by the door of this apartment. Believe me, I tried everything: ducking under the wreath, running by it very quickly, and even walking on tip toes. This wreath apparently has infrared, CIA-grade motion sensors. In fact, even after you left the mailroom, the song kept playing as you waited for your elevator. I can’t pinpoint exactly why this wreath upset me so much, but on Dec. 26th I resolved to take it down.

I got up around noon on Saturday, put on big pair of sunglasses, a ski cap and gloves, and headed to the mailroom with a pair of barbeque tongs (so as to not leave fingerprints). If I was to do this, I knew I’d have to do it fast. The blaring of the melody would soon bring attention to me. I stealthy walked over to the mailroom, but to my surprise, the song did not play. I surmised that the batteries finally died after all those hours of playing. A Christmas miracle indeed.

This entire season has been filled with moments like this, where I want to trip couples walking arm-in-arm in the snow, glare at people who I think have a charmed life, or throw my boot at the TV every time a movie comes on for Lifetime’s “25 Days of Christmas” extravaganza.

My roommate texted me on Christmas day to ask whether I had a merry Christmas. I don’t know what overcame me, maybe it was because I was on my third (in a row) viewing of “Bad Santa,” maybe it was because I was alone, or maybe it was because I was still steaming over that wreath. But, I texted her back, “This is the worst, most lonely day ever.” Who writes stuff like that?

You know, when I think back to that Family Ties episode, what made the Uncle Ned character so compelling was that he was an intelligent, well-educated man, and a genius in the field of economics. How could someone like him, with all his credentials, fall down so hard in life? Why couldn’t he just figure out a way to make it on his own without drinking?

And when I look at me, I get really angry because I should be smart enough to work my way out of this funk. I’m no dummy, right? I’m Phi Beta Kappa, graduated magna cum laude, I got my masters from Georgetown, and I’ve read every Encyclopedia Brown book known to man. Someone like me should be able to figure out a way to cope. But, like alcohol was for Uncle Ned, feeling sorry for myself and angry at the world is the easiest crutch to fall back on. I hate to say this, but it’s almost instinctual.

The final straw came for me last night when I was talking on the phone with one of my really good friends from Seattle (this is the same girl who fly to DC the second Cindy went into the emergency room and stayed by my side for three whole weeks). I think I spent the majority of the conversation just going off on everything and everyone. I was like, “This person forgot me! This person doesn’t call me anymore! No one wants to hear about it anymore! I hate people who cuddle.” Just really random, scattered, bottled up thoughts.

I’m angry. I have been angry. And I’ve been trying to hold it in, but I just let it out. And afterwards, I felt really ugly. I got off the phone with my friend and just started crying and this time the tears weren’t about Cindy. They were about me. I had become that angry, bitter person convinced that the world is against her. I hate that person. That’s not who I am deep in my heart. I’ve never been that person.

I think I’ve written this in the last three blog entries, but I don’t know what to do. I’m trying to draw upon what got me through the first year, but it seems so long ago. And like I said earlier, it is 100 times easier to fall back on the negative responses. So much easier.

But, I don’t want to live like that. It has to be about making choices, right? I get to choose whether I feel happy, right? I shouldn’t empower some freaky wreath with the ability to make me sad. I should be able to watch “Bad Santa,” one of the best holiday movies ever, and not turn into a misanthrope, right?

I remember seeing the movie “Vanilla Sky” with Cindy. Basically, in this film, Tom Cruise and Penelope Cruz fall head over heels for each other right away. All signs point to them having this amazing relationship, but then the next day Tom Cruise gets into a car accident and is horribly disfigured. The Tom Cruise character spends the rest of the movie sulking, lashing out, and wearing that stupid mask. The Penelope Cruz character does make an attempt to welcome him back into her life despite his disfigurement, but he still remains a jerk. When the movie was over, I turned to Cindy and said, “Why did he have to be such a jerk to Penelope Cruz? She would have gotten used to the face.” To which Cindy responded, “But, his heart was disfigured and that was worse than the face.”

Merry Christmas Cindy.

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P.S. How cute is that photo of Cindy above in the Santa hat? And I love that there is an angel on her shirt and spaghetti sauce on her face.